Fiend
by ilovethesoundofviolins
Summary: Now every time Tavros sees Gamzee handle the shift stick in his car, sees Gamzee tug on the drawstrings of his sweatpants, sees Gamzee lick his lips before taking a hit from the three foot bong—all Tavros can think about is *that night.*


**Author's Note:** This is a Humanstuck AU. I was going to use this as the beginning to a much longer fic, but I got lazy lol  
This is basically about that gap between your first time and your second time with your significant other, and how it can reeallly mess with your mind sometimes…or maybe that was just me…  
And there will probably be more words added onto this lil' mini-verse later, once I find them

* * *

Tavros feels like an awful boyfriend (and a pervert) for thinking this, but nowadays, every time he sees Gamzee, he just wants to fuck.

Well, not _just _fuck. 'Have sex with,' is a probably a better way of saying that. 'Make love with,' is probably even better.

It's not that Tavros is craven or deprived or anything. It's not like he just wants a place to, um, stick it, either. It's not that he just wants Gamzee for his body—because none of those things are true. It's just that Tavros can't get the memories of their fist time out of his stupid, hormone-ridden mind.

It had just been so startling, and sweaty, and kind of painful, but also wonderful. It had been Gamzee kissing him and touching him and grinding their hips together for so long that Tavros was stuttering and couldn't even_function_. It was Gamzee being slow and careful at first once he was in, and then gradually getting faster, pulsing into him harder, and Tavros feeling so full. It was Tavros digging his nails into Gamzee's back and Gamzee biting the lobe of his ear and Tavros tangling his fists in Gamzee's long, stringy hair and Gamzee damn near shouting as he trembled, and tensed up, pulled out, and came hot all over Tavros's stomach. It was Tavros coming not long after while panting for breath, and then reveling in the afterwards as Gamzee licked all of the come up from his skin. All of it.

Now every time Tavros sees Gamzee handle the shift stick in his car, sees Gamzee tug on the drawstrings of his sweatpants, sees Gamzee lick his lips before taking a hit from the three foot bong—all Tavros can think about is the night they had sex.

Sex, sex, sex sex sex sex sex.

He wasn't like this before. He's never thought about sex this much. He's never had a reason to because before, he'd been virgin. Thinking about it this much feels dirty, and he feels embarrassed about how many times he's had to catch himself picturing Gamzee hard and naked. Gamzee has always made him feel excited and on edge, but why does he now make him feel entranced and lustblown and hypnotized every time he's around?

Why, whenever they kiss now, does Gamzee's tongue slowly, teasingly drag across his and create sparks in its wake? Why does the way that Gamzee groans low into his mouth and whispers "fuck" make him feel like tearing off his boyfriend's clothes in a second flat?

Tavros's always been a relatively easygoing guy. He's always liked to take things slow and he and his boyfriend have always done that. It took he and Gamzee four months before their hands even ventured below the waist, and another six to get them where they were now. That was fine with him.

With Gamzee, his best friend and lover, he liked to take his time.

Gamzee has always made him feel _nice_ and _special_, and when they make out and mess around, it turns him on and it's sweet, but it's never been to the point where Tavros felt impulsive, where he felt desperate, where he felt the need to take control.

Being intimate, and finally being as _close _to Gamzee as he physically and possibly could, has, like—broken something in his brain.

He doesn't know when their second time is, well,_ supposed_ to happen. How long is too long to wait? How soon is too soon? Is there supposed to be a schedule? Is Gamzee going to invite him over, because they couldn't do it at Tavros' place, on another night when they aren't busy?

How did this 'hey-we're-having-sex-now-so-we-should-do-it-again' thing work, and who would bring up the question first?

It had been very romantic and planned out for their first. A nice take out dinner and a movie on the couch, mood music and dim lighting in the bedroom, pre-bought condoms and supplies tucked away in Gamzee's drawer, and cleared schedules for the both of them so that come the next morning, they could wake up and gaze into each other's eyes.

There might as well have been rose petals and candles too.

Isn't the second time supposed to be sort of the same deal?

Whatever the answer to that is Tavros is a horny mess inside his mind this week. Hanging out with Gamzee casually, as usual, has become a test, a challenge. Standing next to him as he cooks lunch in the apartment, watching him as he paints his face with hard strokes of his fingers in the mirror, walking just a little bit behind him on the sidewalk so he can cop a nice view.

It's all a very difficult game of 'how-long-can-you-keep-your-hands-from-reaching-out-and-squeezing-that-sweet-volumptous-ass-without-looking-too-obvious.'

But it's not like Tavros is going to let any of it show. He's much too embarrassed with himself to let it show. He doesn't want Gamzee to think that he's, like, a freak. It was _just one time_, so he shouldn't be this strung out already, should he?

Although Gamzee _was _so good that it even days later it still makes him feel like he's on a high.

However, instead, Tavros blushes whenever they touch, lets his eyes lustfully roam the stretch of Gamzee's torso far more often than usual, and fights the urge to pummel Gamzee to the floor and mount him in the middle of the afternoon, right there, like he saw in one of those porno movies once.


End file.
